the_sting_of_beauty raze she pins her wheel to possibility — shows us what we know. i don't think she has a night. we all tend to become nights. after digging into the enclave of light i kiss her carefully, without justice. she doesn't even look at me. she runs right on by. just like in life. nothing lasts. not this. not anything. 260704 what's it to you? who go blather from